


Without You I'll Forget (The Ones I Couldn't Save)

by Yggdrasil (retrollama)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Get Together, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Marvel Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Quest for Atonement, Tony Angst, mcu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 19:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2519606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrollama/pseuds/Yggdrasil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The suit is a way to save people but it's also a way for Tony to atone for what he's done. </p>
<p>When Tony is left with no other choice but to ask Steve for help removing the armour and the Captain sees what secrets the billionaire has been hiding under its metallic surface, Tony learns that maybe he doesn't need to save everybody and Steve just needs Tony to save himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without You I'll Forget (The Ones I Couldn't Save)

Tony had done his best to hide his scars from everyone. Wearing long shirts and pants in summer was a small price to pay to keep those looks from ending up on anyone else’s face. Seeing the anxious worry in Pepper’s eyes, even after they’d called it quits, or Shelly, his personal physician’s grim disapproval, the kind that only doctors can use on you, when they watch you with narrowed eyes and quietly ask if you were sure you knew what you were doing.

He had been when he started, when he went to Gulmira and shot down the members of the Ten Rings who had held him captive, were using people like Shelly’s mother as human shields like cowards.

After he had taken off the suit, after that first fight, and seen the deep cuts and scrapes and burns all over his body, he had still been sure. It had only filled him with a grim determination, the knowledge that the scars were his penance for what he had done and he would take them and hold them close, his badge of redemption.

When New York happened, when he had almost died to save his home and his teammates, when he got home and took the armour off and the cuts on his back and his arms were deeper than usual, he had never been more sure of anything in his life. They burned and gushed and Shelly stitched him closed and asked him why he didn’t make it stop if he knew how.

“What makes you think I know how?” he’d asked with a smile that was both tired and strong, shaking and steady, confident and wary.

“You’re Tony Stark, you always know how.”

And he did. He knew how to make it stop but it wouldn’t be fair, then. He hadn’t atoned yet. There was still too much blood on his hands for him to ever really feel like he deserved to make it stop. The suit was his only way to give them the peace they truly deserved and what was the point of it all if he didn’t suffer as much as they had?

Justice is just punishment and Tony had not nearly begun to pay back his dues.

 

* * *

 

The crowbar crashed into Tony’s chest, forcing the cuts deeper, compressing his ribs with an audible snap, and sent him flying through the wall of the nearest building. Tony had gotten good at not crying out during battles. He forced his breaths to slow and shallow to the point where he could heave himself to his feet without choking on pain.

He’d made it to his knees when the sinister smile of the Wrecker appeared in the doorway of the building, crowbar raised.

“Let’s see you invent your way out of this, Stark!” he spat. The crowbar came down on the support pillar and the building came down on Tony.

He remembered the crushing weight landing on him and someone screaming his name down the comm. and then darkness, all-encompassing and all-consuming.

 

* * *

 

Tony came back to himself just as the slab of concrete right on top of him was lifted away by huge green hands.

“About time!” he quipped, praying his voice was as steady as he hoped, and started lifting himself to his knees for the second time that afternoon, “Did anyone get the licence plate on that supervillain?” Steve jumped down into the whole next to him and grabbed Tony’s arm to help him upright. Tony forced down the scream that clawed at his chest when Steve squeezed just a little too hard. The Captain tended to forget his strength when he was worried or angry.

Concerned blue eyes eclipsed Tony’s HUD and said, “We got the Wrecker, Hill’s taking him to containment now and _you_ are going to Medical.”

“Cap, I’m fine. The suit took most of the damage, see?” Tony rapped his knuckles on the helmet and gestured to all the dings and scratches for emphasis, ignoring the pain that sparked from his fingertips to his shoulder blade.

Tony’s eyes ran over the suit schematics on the left of the HUD noting all the red flashing warnings over collapsed catches and crumpled plate releases. JARVIS and Dummy weren’t going to be able to get him out of this and some of the catches were in the wrong place for him to be able to get to with a crowbar himself and sticky enough that they would need the Jaws of Life to get him out. He was going to need help.

“Most of the damage isn’t _all_ of the damage, Stark. You need to go to Medical,” Rogers persisted stubbornly.

Tony supposed he was lucky to have avoided it as long as he had. Pepper had never had to help him out of the suit, for which he was infinitely grateful, but he needed to let someone on the team see it.

“I have my own doctor on call,” he replied distractedly.

His first choice would have been Natasha. To outsiders, it may not look like they get along and their history had made him hesitant to trust her again, but she was the only one on the team that understood how Tony felt. They both had so much red in their ledgers, as she had put. He dismissed her, though, because anything he told to her would inevitably make it to Fury or Clint and Tony wouldn’t let SHIELD within a hundred miles of his issues with his ‘not recommended’ status still hanging over his head and Clint couldn’t keep his mouth shut on any secret that didn’t involve work or his own identity or his and Natasha’s relationship.

“What’s their name then?”

“Shelly.”

Tony had to rule Bruce out too because, as much as Tony loved him, he would rather not have the Hulk destroying his workshop and Bruce wasn’t strong enough to make the catches move an millimetre, let alone the inch and a half that it would take to crack them open.

So, with Thor in New Mexico visiting Jane and Darcy, that left Tony with one option.

He was going to have to show Rogers.

“JARVIS, can you tell Doctor Shelly to meet Stark and I in the workshop?”

Wait, what?

“Of course, Captain.”

“Traitor,” Tony growled. Apparently the decision had been made while he was thinking.

“Always, Sir,” JARVIS replied blandly.

Cap led Tony up out of the wreckage, keeping one hand on Tony’s arm as he made his way.

“You don’t have to hold me up, Cap. I told you, I’m fine,” Tony grated, ignoring the pain in his side when he bent to get a handhold on a piece of rubble.

“Excuse me if I don’t believe you when the last time you claimed to be ‘fine’ you came into the kitchen the next morning with your arm in a cast.”

Tony grudgingly added a point to Rogers’ side of the board.

 

* * *

 

The ride back to the Tower was quiet. Tony kept the helmet on and closed his eyes to breathe through the aches that shot through him whenever the van hit a bump. Rogers sat next to him and shot sideways glances at him whenever Tony curled his fist at a particularly vicious jolt.

When they arrived, the team filed out and JARVIS announced, “Doctor Pashtun is waiting for you in the workshop, Captain.”

Rogers put a hand between Tony’s shoulders and led him to the elevator down to the subbasement levels that housed Tony’s suits and workshop. Once the door closed, Tony leaned back against the wall and said, “I’m gonna need your help to get out of the suit. Some of the catches broke and the metal is too warped for JARVIS and Dummy to get it off.” Cap nodded and folded his arms, staring at Tony silently. He’d pushed off the cowl at some point and now he was subjecting Tony to the full force of his concerned frown.

The doors opened and Shelly was immediately in his space, ranting, “I don’t even know why I bother patching you up anymore, I only fixed you up a week ago and JARVIS is already calling me to say you got a building dropped on you _again_ and if you don’t let your wounds heal up first then you’ll- oh. Hi?” She finally ran down when she noticed Cap blinking at her in surprise.

“Shelly, Steve Rogers. Steve, Shelly Pashtun.” He waved between them and wandered over to the stool by the workbench. Shelly shot him a meaningful look that Tony was positive Rogers hadn’t missed. “I need help to get out of the suit and Cap’s the only one strong enough to break the catches.” She watched him for a few more minutes before nodding and heading off into a corner of the room.

Rogers walked into the ‘shop slowly, his eyes casting around and catching on certain things: the motorcycle Tony had been making him as a peace offering, the stretchable elastin polymer for Bruce’s clothes, new suit pieces, stiletto heels that convert to flats with detachable knives in the heels, new arrows for Clint, the jet designs he’d been playing with hanging in the air as holograms, the android body he’d been building in case JARVIS ever wanted to move around sitting in the corner with an arm and leg missing, scattered in pieces on one of the workbenches.

He had a look on his face like the future wasn’t so disappointing after all.

Tony cleared his throat and said, “I’ll give you the tour after you get me out of here. It is nowhere near as comfortable as it looks.”

“It’s a metal suit; it doesn’t look comfortable at all,” Rogers smiled at him, a real, honest smile, like the ones he gives Thor when he eats all the pop tarts and demands more ‘glorious sugary delights’. Tony never got those smiles.

“Exactly,” he said and he hoped his voice didn’t shake like it sounded like it did. Cap walked over and looked Tony over, assessing.

“Are there any catches that didn’t break?” Tony checked the HUD and nodded.

“Helmet, hands, right thigh, right shoulder and boots from the knee down. I can’t activate the catches from in here; the wiring’s damaged, so you need to hit the manual catches. First one’s the side of my head under my left ear between the plates that lock the helmet and neck pieces.” Rogers nodded and pulled off his gloves so that he could feel out the catch. Tony heard the tell-tale click as it released followed by the hissing breath Cap took when he pulled the helmet from the rest of the armour.

“Are you sure you won’t go to Medical? That’s a pretty nasty bump.” A gash ran from Tony’s hairline down to his right temple, the skin around it mottled with blackening bruises.

“I’ll be fine, Cap. Let’s just get on with it.” Rogers sighed shook his head and moved on to the hands. The gauntlets slipped off easily but the second they did, a small drip-drip-drip started to flow from his fingers.

“Tony, you’re bleeding.”

“Happens when you have a building dropped on you,” he smirked tiredly.

“You said you were fine.” Steve’s voice was icily calm in that way that meant he was struggling not to punch Tony. So much for that nice smile.

“I thought we already established that ‘fine’ is a general formative for me.”

“Tony-“

“The sooner you get me out of here, Rogers, the sooner I can get patched up and you can stop worrying your pretty little head over a bit of blood.”

Rogers jaw tightened but he nodded and moved to the boots.  He ran his fingers between the calf and shin plates, seeking the catch Tony had told him hid there. After a few moments of quiet, he said, “You can call me Steve, you know. You always call me ‘Rogers’ or ‘Cap’ but you can call me Steve.”

“After this, it would be rude of me not to.” Rogers- _Steve’s_ ears turned pink and Tony smirked, knowing what the Captain was thinking and how very wrong he was.

The catch clicked open and Steve slid the first boot off. Tony couldn’t hold the hiss he released this time. Steve froze the second the boot was free, eyes fixed on the bloodied mess of the inside of the Iron Man boot.

“Tony…” he said slowly, gaze turning up to Tony’s face. He was a few shades paler than before, the corners of his eyes scrunched in pain.

“I’ll explain when you finish taking the armour off.” Steve watched him, trying to decide whether Tony would actually explain or just banish him once he’d helped him with what he needed. Steve could probably just catch Tony if he tried to run anyway. He nodded and removed the second boot before moving on to the other undamaged catches.

The more armour Steve peeled away, the more blood he found. Running along every seam in the armour was a matching, perfectly straight cut in Tony’s own skin. Each cut was buried in what looked like scar tissue that followed the exact path as the new cuts. Some were deeper than others, like the ones under dents made by the Wrecker, the jagged pieces of metal pushed further into the flesh, but all of them were equally bloody and vicious.

As he used the crowbar to prise the broken plates from Tony’s body, he noticed that the only areas of his skin unmarred were those that they always saw: his neck and face, his hands and feet. Everything else bore the signs of abuse that wearing the armour was costing him.

Steve left the chest piece until last, its surface being the most damaged. Tony was mostly quiet for the whole process, letting out the occasional grunt or hiss when a plate was particularly stubborn. Steve would almost have been impressed if he wasn’t so concerned and angry. Steve saw where some of the cuts ran, close to and right over veins and arteries where a single slip could result in Tony bleeding to death inside the armour.

Steve pushed the crowbar between the plates a little more forcefully than was probably necessary. Tony gasped and choked, his head dropping forward, and he immediately felt guilty. Tony’s hair was dripping sweat and he was almost grey with pain now.

“Last one,” Steve promised, squeezing Tony’s arm gently where he could find a place with no cuts. Tony nodded sloppily and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Steve pushed. Tony howled in pain, his hand shooting up to clamp down on Steve’s shoulder, and he didn’t try to take it slow this time. Steve shoved all of his weight onto the crowbar and the plates separated with a snap, falling away from Tony’s body. Steve dropped the crowbar and caught the engineer as he went limp on the stool.

Shelly rushed over while Steve lowered Tony to the ground and checked his pulse, nodding to herself as she started ripping apart her med kit.

“JARVIS, scans?”

“Sir has three cracked ribs and two broken on his right side. No other breaks detected. No intracranial swelling detected. No internal or organ damage detected,” he replied promptly. Shelly nodded happily.

“Good, good. He hasn’t lost that much blood so it’s probably just the pain and exhaustion and the light concussion. He’ll be fine so long as we clean and wrap the cuts and get him some good pain killers.”

Steve watched quietly while Shelly cleaned Tony up, stitching the worst of the cuts and wrapping it all to staunch the bleeding. Once she was done, he manoeuvred Tony onto the couch in the corner of the room and draped a blanket over him. He was covered nearly neck to ankle in white bandages, some already spotted with red.

“Is this why he doesn’t go to Medical?” Steve asked softly, “Because he doesn’t want anyone to know?”

Shelly was quiet for a moment, considering. Eventually, she sighed. “Tony is… a complicated man, despite what the media would have you think. He can make it stop, redesign the interior of the armour so that he doesn’t get those scars but… He thinks he deserves this, that it’s a penance.”

“Penance for what?” Steve asks, turning to her with his brow furrowed. Steve wasn’t blind to the mistakes of Tony’s past, most of them largely available in the media. It was one of the reasons he had been so hostile to Tony when they first met. Steve had seen the man in the newspapers with the fast cars and the woman and the flashy smile and just assumed that was the man he was, immediately associated this impossibly larger than life man with everything that was wrong with the century he now had to call home.

Steve of all people should have known better. When he had become Captain America, the newspapers had reported anything and everything, including that he was secretly a woman, that he was a spy for the Fuhrer, and even that he had slept with every one of the chorus girls on the Star Spangled Road Show.

But as far as Steve was concerned, everything he’d read had been made up for tenfold when Tony had flown that bomb through the portal and saved them all.

“Tony thinks that it’s his responsibility to take the same pain the people who died because of his weapons did. He thinks he’s just getting what he deserves. He’s wrong. Even if it _had_ been his fault, he paid them back a long time ago.”

“Can’t you talk to him?”

“I’ve tried, Captain,” she chuckled, “But I’m just not the right person for that job.” She picked up her kit and smiled at him sadly. “Maybe you could give it a try? He likes you. He’ll listen.” Shelly turned and headed for the door, saying over her shoulder, “when he wakes up, put his right arm in a sling so it doesn’t knock against the ribs and give him the codeine I left on the bench.” She looked back at him and smiled. “Good luck, Cap.” And then she disappeared into the elevator.

Steve looked down at Tony’s unconscious face and sighed. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this conversation.

 

* * *

 

Tony felt the familiar burn of waking up post-mission, every inch of him sore and his skin pulling uncomfortably as he attempted to push himself upright. He groaned and rubbed at the arc reactor; the ones around his chest were always the worst, always cut the deepest.

“You might not want to try that yet,” a stern voice said. Tony’s head whipped around to see Rogers sitting on a stool next to him and Tony’s brain struggled to kick over and remember why he was here.

When Rogers put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down into the couch, the memory clicked. Right, the Wrecker, busted suit, Steve helping him get out of his gold-titanium death trap, got it. Tony tried to heave a sigh and pain shot through his chest.

“Broken ribs?” he asked. Steve nodded and he still had that little concerned furrow between his brows. Dammit, there was no defence against that.

“You promised me an explanation and since you can’t run, I figured now’s a good time.”

“You are devious, Rogers, absolutely-“

“Steve.” Tony blinked, derailed, and looked up at the slight curve in the Captain’s lips. “I told you to call me Steve.”

“Steve,” Tony amended. “I suppose Shelly told you most of it while I was out?” Steve nodded slowly, the furrow deepening slightly.

“You don’t have anything you need to make up for, Tony-”

“-There are a lot of things I need to make up for-“

“-and you’ve already done so much-“

“-It’ll never be enough-“

“-But you’ve saved-“

“-It’s not about who I saved!” Tony exploded. “It’s about who I _didn’t_ save!”

“Tony…”

“Someone put a gun, my gun, to Shelly’s mother’s head and pulled the trigger and I didn’t stop it. How am I ever supposed to make up for that?” Tony couldn’t hold Steve’s eyes then, turning his face to the back of the couch in shame. He could feel the weight of Steve’s stare burning into him.

“By saving everyone you can, including yourself.”

“Some people just aren’t worth saving.”

Strong fingers closed around Tony’s chin and pulled his head around to stare into blazingly angry blue eyes.

“Everyone is worth saving,” he growled, “especially good people, Tony, people who do everything they can to save others, who give up so much of themselves for what they think is right, people who stand and fight no matter what the odds are. Tony, you’re fighting, fighting every day for the people you want to save and it doesn’t matter if you don’t save them all. The ones you couldn’t save, they’re proud that someone like you, someone brave and strong, is still fighting for the people they left behind. You protect everyone, Tony, and you may not save them all but that’s why you’re an Avenger.

“The guns didn’t get out because of you. Stane sold them under the table. Those deaths are on his head, not yours, and you dealt with Stane, you avenged those people, you still go out every other week to make sure there aren’t any more weapons out there. You are one of the single most dedicated and principled men I have ever known and you _deserve to be saved.”_

Tony stared at him, stunned by the torrent of words and praises. He couldn’t make it fit together in his head, Steve Rogers adamantly defending Tony to himself.

“I… I didn’t even think you liked me,” Tony said quietly, very conscious of the fact that Steve was still holding him in place and how close together they were. Steve just smiled, eyes softening, and slid his hand from Tony’s chin to his cheek.

“I like you plenty,” he said, breath puffing against Tony’s lips.

“Oh, that’s good,” Tony said shakily, eyes drawn to the tongue darting out between Steve’s teeth. “I like you plenty, too. Loads, in fact. More than I like air right now, so if you could just-“

Steve smiled against Tony’s mouth and the genius’ rambling stopped, distracted by the warm pressure of the Captain’s kiss. Steve slowly moved down to mouth along Tony’s jaw and the engineer chuckled breathlessly.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re distracting me, Rogers.”

“Are you going to change the suits?” he asked against Tony’s neck.

“Are you going to keep kissing me?” Steve just grinned and trailed his lips back up to Tony’s.

“That can be arranged,” he mumbled and if Tony wore shorts around the Tower, nobody asked him about his scars and with Steve’s finger tracing the one that ran the length of his inner thigh, Tony couldn’t be too bothered questioning it.


End file.
